Recovery
by Shibby-One
Summary: Danny's disappeared... And no one knows why or how. All they know is that a dark haired kid from Wisconsin is seen around town,and Sam thinks she's seeing Danny in her dreams... or is she?
1. Beginnings

_I bet you were all expecting the continuation of **Ticking**, huh? Don't worry, that's coming soon. It won't be very long, but it will be there. Anyway, this is an idea I came up with ages ago, I just never fleshed out. Since I'm finished with **Twilight Walking** (I just have to post all the chapters now), I started working on this for fun. It's interesting to write. Anyway, this isn't going to be very long, either - **TW** is the longest story you can expect from me for awhile. (It's upwards about 20 chapters right now.)_

_Danny disappeared about a month earlier - but they have no leads as to where he might be. Turns out he's living with Vlad, but a) has no memory of being a Fenton, and b) seems to be acting very strangely - even for him. And, if Danny's living with Vlad, who's the mysterious specter visiting Sam in her dreams? Interesting indeed. DxS, angst, whoo._

* * *

**Chapter One  
_Beginnings_  
**

* * *

There are many things that people will do for love. There are hundreds, thousands of desperate roads people will follow to find what willtruly make them happy. Sometimes people are driven to the point of destruction trying to find something they truly desire. 

However, there are some things that can never be done. There are a lot of mysterious anomalies in our world, and many more things that we can't explain how or why they happened. They just did.

But the one thing that human kind will _never, ever_ be able to do, is bring the dead back to life.

No matter how hard they try.

* * *

_The rain was cold and chilling. It poured silver from the sky, only being seen in the dimming streetlights around them. The street was silver and white from puddles forming in the cracks and crevices in the pavement._

_Around them, flecks of fluorescent green littered the ground, dripping profusely from the ghost that he was fighting. The boy's dazzling white hair flashed and his iridescent eyes narrowed as he continued to shoot powerful beams from his palms, causing more ectoplasmic residue to leak from his foe._

_She stood there in the rain, shivering, her hair sticking to her cheeks. Her other friend was running, his lips moving and his eyes wide, but no sound came from his lips. She stared at him quizzically, wondering why nothing was coming from his mouth. He was clearly speaking, but there was no audio to be heard._

_She realized that her other friend was speaking as well. Yelling, it appeared to be. And she realized that she couldn't hear the rain as it hit the pavement, or the ghost as he was beaten, or the thunder as lightening flashed overhead._

_She took a step forward, the satisfying squelch of water in her shoes not being heard. She used her pale hands to move the hair from her cheeks behind her ears, walking forwards more quickly._

_Her other friends had already beaten the ghost, and he was already sucked up into the Thermos, safe and unable to do more harm. She smiled as her other rain-soaked friends stood and laughed without audio, beckoning to her._

"_I'm coming!" she called, running over faster. She grinned widely, her heart pounding, her hands clenched into fists as she ran. It was just another day, just another ghost fight, just another part of their lives._

_As she ran, she noticed the world behind her ghost-friend darkening. A shadow was lurking behind him. Her other friend had already made his way over to her, not noticing the shadow at all._

_The shadow reminded her of vampires from the old movies. It was very pointed, and she could swear she could make out a pair of blood shot eyes and dripping fangs hovering above his head._

"_Danny!" she cried, stopping where she was running. He paid no attention, talking without saying a word. The shadow advanced, placing its hands on Danny's shoulders and sliding them down his arms. A chill ran down her spine, her breath caught in her throat._

"_DANNY!" she cried out, reaching for him, but he seemed to be getting farther and farther away. Her breath came out in gasps and tears clouded her eyes, but she continued to run, faster and faster. The faster she ran, the farther he went from her._

"_DANNY! DANNY! D-DANNY!" she cried over and over, the road before her turning to silver water._

"_Danny!" she squeaked out, before being pulled down into freezing, silvery water, down, down, down, so far she couldn't see or breathe, her hands clutching her neck, trying to get any air she could, her tears swirling around her head…_

"DANNY!"

Sam Manson shot up, head pounding, her breath coming in gasps. She hadn't realized it, but she was wheezing and gasping, desperately trying to get as much air as she could. She clutched her throat, her breaths coming more slowly now as she realized she was safe.

She was in her bed, and it was 1:09 in the morning. It wasn't raining; as a matter of fact, warm air came in through her bedroom window and caressed her chilled body. Her door was closed, one window cracked to let air in. There was no rain, no darkness, there _was_ sound, and, most importantly, no lurking figure.

But… there was still no Danny.

Frustrated, Sam hopped out of her bed and ambled slowly over to her computer, her head still pounding. She sat down and booted it up, impatiently tapping her fingers on the computer table.

When the computer finally beeped to life, she opened a saved link, one she checked almost daily now. She watched the screen open, her heart pounding, wondering, hoping, that maybe there was some change—

She sighed in sadness and contentment. No news so far. The news article was still the same. The headline still read '_Local teen disappearance baffles police_', the date was still from the last update, a week and a half ago.

Sam sighed again. Still no news on Danny. She re-read the familiar article, not really taking in any of the words on the page. It was the same old story, the same old news. Danny Fenton, fifteen, still missing. The last time he was seen was by his sister out the window of their ridiculous house. No signs of abduction or a run away – and yet, he was still gone.

The part that hurt her the most, however, was the middle paragraph. It was short and just kind of stuck there in the middle – but every time her eyes grazed over it, she winced as if someone did something to her.

_As of Sunday, at 7 pm, the search for Fenton officially became a recovery, as due to the California State Missing Persons Law._

It was one sentence, it wasn't even a paragraph. And yet, she still felt as if this meant that everyone could just give up on him. As if it was okay to think of him as just another missing child, another statistic, another body to stack up and put away.

Sam turned the computer off and hopped back onto her bed, lying down gently on her pillow. She cleared her head, trying not to think about Danny. For once.

As she lay there, as she began to slowly lose consciousness again and fall back asleep, she turned onto her side on the edge of her bed, breathing softly, and opened her eyes slowly. She stared at the emptiness of the pillow next to her. On nights like this, she could remember him the easiest.

She remembered that night. She had lain close to him, his head on her pillow next to hers, his dark hair falling over his eyes. She had curled next to him, lacing her fingers into his and nudging her face into his dark hair, breathing in his scent.

She smiled in contentment as she remembered. He had turned over, touched her gently, and wrapped his arms around her and drew her close. It was warm that night, too. It had been just a month ago. It was in the early morning hours, just after midnight, when she had felt tired. Skin on skin, bare fingers touching bare shoulders, she had fallen asleep, but only after making sure she was safely in his arms, lying against his bare chest, her fingers tangled with his.

Just a few days later, he disappeared.

She rolled over onto her back and stared at the ceiling. The last time she saw him had been a ghost fight like the one she dreamed about. She had that dream often.

But the last time she saw him, _really_ saw him, experienced him, listened to him, been intimate with him, loved him, spent precious time with him… had been that night.

He hadn't been seen since.

* * *

"Y'know… I had another dream about him," Sam said as she sat down beside her friend. Tucker Foley glanced up at her from his math homework, raising an eyebrow at her. 

"Oh? And?" he asked. She shrugged.

"It was like… like the last ghost we fought before he disappeared," she admitted. "Only this time, there was this big… shadow behind Danny. And it started… doing weird things to him. Like, _caressing_ him almost, but Danny didn't notice at all. And then I started drowning in a silvery pool-thing… I dunno." Throughout the entire telling, Tucker nodded as if taking mental notes.

"So… a big shadow. Think it means something?"

"I dunno, maybe," Sam said softly, fiddling with the silver ring on her left ring finger. It was too big for her now; she had lost weight since Danny gave it to her a little over a month ago, and now she spun it freely.

"Maybe it's some sort of cosmic clue," Tucker said, tapping it into his PDA. Sam glanced at him, confused.

"What're you doing? Taking notes?" she asked, leaning over. Tucker chuckled.

"Kind of. Y'know, anything suspicious that we could possibly use to figure out what happened." He pocked the device and continued on his homework. "Sam, can you solve this? I can't seem to get—Sam?" he asked, realizing she wasn't listening to him. She was leaning with her head in her hands, tapping her fingers against her face gently. Tucker sighed.

"Sam, you can't possibly think about this _all_ the time," he said, scooting closer to her to talk to her in a lower voice. "I mean, there is the possibility that… that he's—"

"Don't say it," Sam said curtly, turning to him. "He is _not_ dead. I can tell." A shrill ringing was heard above them as the bell rang, cutting their conversation short.

"Time for class," Sam said, standing up immediately. She dashed into the school building, wedging her way between mingling students, trying to stop the tears in the corners of her eyes.

Tucker just watched her run. She always became so emotional whenever the possibility of Danny's death arose. When the search for him became an official recovery, she had been so angry and frustrated she hadn't spoken to him in days. It wasn't like _Tucker_ had decided that it was a recovery, but… with him gone for two weeks with next to no leads, what more could they hope for…

But a body?

Tucker shivered, even though the weather was warm and crisp that day. Just the thought of Danny coming home in a body bag was chilling enough. It was something he didn't want to think about.

But what more could he do?

* * *

_I don't own Danny Phantom._


	2. Wisconsin

_I still don't own Danny Phantom._

* * *

**Chapter Two  
_Wisconsin _**

* * *

"Well, Daniel, you certainly have improved, I have to say," Vlad Masters said, raising his eyebrows in surprise. He leaned over and looked at the paper before him, making sounds of approval in his throat. He smiled and placed his hand on the boy's shoulder, squeezing it gently.

Danny smiled back up at him, absently brushing his raven hair from his eyes. He looked back down at the paper and sighed.

"It took me forever," he admitted, "but I really studied hard this time."

"You did well, son," Vlad said, taking it in his hands. It was a mock report, a fake of one of the many real ones Vlad had to write daily. Danny's tutor had been teaching him how to write essays and reports, and this was Danny's best yet.

Vlad smiled a bit wider as he saw the name _Daniel Masters_ written neatly at the top in cursive. He placed the paper back down and patted his shoulder again.

"This has to be some of your finest work," he said to his son. "So, as a reward, I've decided that you can take today off." Danny's eyes widened in surprise and happiness as he looked up at his father.

"What? Really?" he said, standing up. He was nearly as tall as Vlad, and whenever he stood straight, Vlad felt intimidated. It had certainly taken some getting used to when Danny had first arrived; he wasn't used to the boy listening to him or facing him without a fighting stance.

But all that had changed by now.

"Yes, really," Vlad said, putting his hands in his pockets. "You deserve it. You've been studying so hard this past week, I'm sure you and your teacher both want a break. Most kids get breaks from school, don't they?"

Danny shrugged.

"I wouldn't know," he answered. "I've never been to public school, Dad, how _could_ I know?"

"Mr. Masters?" a voice said from the door of the office. Both Danny and Vlad turned. A young woman with bleached blonde hair was looking into the office.

"Yes?" Vlad asked, stepping around his dark-suited son and walking over to the door.

"This came for you," she said, handing the folder in her hands to him. Vlad smiled and took the folder, nodding gently to her in thanks.

"Thank you, Miss Gregory," he said, and placed the folder on his desk. Danny was on the other side of the room, raising the shades. The late morning sun ricocheted off the clean oak desk and off the deep red walls and lavish leather chairs. Vlad's meeting office (and Danny's schoolroom) were the only rooms that weren't decked out in Packers yellow-and-green décor.

As Vlad placed the folder on his desk, he grinned slightly, watching Danny as he opened the last shade.

_Still no memory,_ he thought. He mentally glanced at the books in his wall-sized bookshelf, a battered, leather-bound book coming to mind.

_I can't believe that ridiculous thing worked,_ he thought, repeating the mantra he drilled into his brain nearly every day. _I can't believe it worked. I was so sure it wouldn't._

Danny hopped over the back of a chair and sat down in it, taking off his suit jacket. He was wearing a long-sleeved, faint pink dress shirt underneath, the sleeves rolled all the way down despite the warm temperatures.

"Come now, Daniel, you must be broiling in that," Vlad said, opening a window. "When you go out, change into something lighter… and more casual." Danny looked down at his arms, gulped, and shook his head.

"N-no, I'm good," he said, standing up suddenly. "Actually, I think I'll go change right now." Vlad raised an eyebrow as he dashed out of the room, shutting the door behind him. Vlad listened as Danny's footsteps died away into the interior of the house as he rushed to his room.

"May I come in now?" a voice said from the other side of the room. A second door, not quite as obvious as the main door, was shut and locked, keeping someone from sight.

"Yes, we're alone, come on in," Vlad called, and a large, robotic-looking ghost opened the door and walked in, closing the door behind him. He walked up to the desk, and extended his hand to the older man, shaking it valiantly.

"It feels good to be under your employment again, Plasmius," Skulker said, looking around the office. "I need something to do, now that I don't have the welp to hunt."

"Yes, well, I'm sorry about that," Vlad said. "Oh, and to answer your question, the boy still has his ghost half."

"So, he does, does he?" Skulker said, looking at the main door where Danny had left. "Does he know it exists?"

"I'm not sure," Vlad admitted. "I witnessed him exhibiting some ghostly abilities just a few days ago. He was pulling a drawer out of a table desk, and his hand passed right through the knob. I'm not sure if he noticed, though, but I did."

"Interesting," Skulker replied. "So, all physical normalities stay _after_ the spell?"

"Well… I wouldn't call it a 'spell' so much as… a condition," Vlad said slowly.

"He's under a 'condition'?"

"You know what I mean, Skulker." Skulked 'hmm'ed and put his hands on the table.

"Naturally, you'd be the only one crazy enough to attempt such an experiment," he said.

"So, you didn't find anything?" Vlad said.

"Not a thing. You're the first person – or ghost – to successfully complete it. In written words, at least." Vlad smiled and looked at the walls, at the diplomas and awards that he hung to impress his guests.

"Yes, well, I'd expect nothing less," he said matter-of-factly. "You'd think more ghosts would try these things out, having nothing to lose after death." Skulker shrugged.

"No one had any reason to, I guess…"

Elsewhere in the manor, Danny was pulling tying his sneakers and standing up straight. His arms were warm underneath his long-sleeved shirt, so he rolled them to his elbows. But he couldn't roll them any higher.

Glancing around his lavish room, he walked up close to his mirror and rolled his right shirt sleeve just a bit higher above the elbow, exposing the skin above his elbow. He winced at the sight.

It was a yellowish-greenish-bluish color, with little black spots all over it. The skin was beginning to tear just above his elbow, partially decomposed muscle being exposed underneath. Danny stuck out his tongue in disgust and lowered the sleeve.

"Ew," he said. "The decomposition is getting farther down." He sighed and pulled up his shirt, exposing his stomach, which was in the same state as his arm.

His body was decomposing. Rotting. Every day it happened a little more and more. He had to wear long sleeves and pants, even when it was on the brink of summer, just to keep this fact hidden. He could never let anyone see him with any less clothing on, which had given him a very bizarre reputation amongst the orderlies of the house.

"This is so incredibly frustrating," Danny muttered as he grabbed his car keys from off his bedside table. (He knew how to drive, and was very good at it, too.) He took one more glance at himself in the mirror before leaving.

He smirked at himself, licking his dry lips gently before continuing on out the door. He closed it gently behind him and bounded down the hall and the stairs, leaving out of the servant door in the kitchen.

"Bye!" he called, slamming the door behind him and dashing over to his car. It was a sleek little two-door sports car, in a deep indigo color that shined in the morning sun. He hopped in, adjusting the rear-view mirror. He looked at himself in the rearview mirror, a smile curling on his lips. Sometimes he just couldn't help himself.

"Oh, my dear Vlad," he said in a low voice. "If only you knew."

And he stuck the key in the ignition.


	3. Downtown

* * *

**Chapter Three  
_Downtown_**

* * *

Sam couldn't help herself. She was always tempted to go and wander around after school, not having much of a goal or a destination. Without Danny, she felt lost and detached, as if an important part of her was missing constantly.

As she wandered, she forced all the horrible thoughts of Danny's current state from her mind. She thought of all the wonderful times she had shared with him. She remembered a cool, starry night, just a couple months ago, when she, in her attempts to confess her feelings to him, he had leaned in and kissed her, confirming what she had hoped for months. She thought of the first stumbling steps of their relationship, and how it developed in a deeper, lasting connection between the two of them.

They weren't very public with their relationship – they just weren't the type to put something so personal on display. If it hadn't been the wildfire gossip of the week, no one would have even noticed a change in their behaviors. They never really acted any differently towards each other – at least, when they were around other people. Especially Tucker. When they were with Tucker, they were three best friends, three ghost hunters, Three Musketeers.

But when they were alone… those were the times when Sam would lay her head on his shoulder and hold both his hands, and they would talk or enjoy each other's company and their embrace, simply, curled up in a chair or lying on their backs on Sam's bed. Always Sam's, because her parents were never around. If they were in Danny's house, his entire family was all over them, either out of general parental concern, or just the fact that the Fenton's _adored_ Sam and were already planning the wedding.

Sam wandered around downtown Amity Park, the sun shining down on her. All of the outdoor vendors were in full swing, and she smiled at them as she passed by. Cars were lined in the parking garages and on the sides of streets. This area was well known for cheap prices and a good atmosphere in the summertime. It was the beginning of June and already people from all over were shopping.

She stopped to stand beside a little sports car, and she admired it's obviously expensive exterior and it's gorgeous indigo color.

"I'd love a car like this," she murmured to herself. She chuckled. "Of course, I'd love a license, too." She glanced at the license plate and frowned in confusion. "_Wisconsin?_ What on earth is someone from _Wisconsin_ doing way out here?" She touched the hood and then moved away, realizing that this was a _very_ expensive car, which meant the owner was _very_ wealthy and in that case probably _very_ powerful.

"Bye, pretty car," Sam said, and she walked away from it, back onto the sidewalk. She looked down the long street of vendors, selling everything from books to flowers to food. She smiled at a little boy outside of the flower shop, helping his mother by picking out the flowers that people were buying. She watched as he happily pulled out a red rose from the bunch, and held it up to someone much taller than himself. Sam tilted her head and watched the man that was interacting with the boy. He had long sleeves on, and pants, which was odd; car keys were dangling from a lanyard wrapped around his hand. He paid the little boy and put the rose in his pocket, turning and allowing the wind to pick up his long black hair as he walked along.

Sam nearly choked.

_It was Danny._

She stood there, frozen, hanging on to the tree she was next to for dear life. Clearly, that was Danny. Surely. Who _else_ could it be? His dark hair, those blue eyes, that face…

She began to run.

"Danny?" she called, but there were so many people that she couldn't get through. The person she thought was Danny was making his way through the crowd slowly, pausing to look at things. Sam ducked into the doorway of a bookshop and waited until the crowd was thinned around her so she could run to him. He was on the other side of the street, making his way over to where the cars were parked. He was swinging the lanyard absently, whistling.

"Danny?" she called again, but still no answer. She began shoving herself through people, desperate to get to him.

_Damnit, he's going so slow!_ She thought. _Why can't I catch him?_ Just as she was thinking, she saw him stop at the indigo sports car, and open the door. Sam's jaw dropped momentarily as she watched him.

_No… Danny's fifteen. He can't drive. He can't even get a license,_ she thought. Her heart dropped as she watched him turn on the car and back out the area, zooming away into the daylight. Sam stood there, crestfallen.

"That wasn't Danny," she muttered to herself. There was no way it could have been.

_But I was so sure…_ It had really looked like him. Or had it? It wouldn't be the first time she'd mistaken some other black-haired blue-eyed boy as Danny. Her mind was constantly playing tricks on her, heightening her hopes and then dashing them as she thought she saw Danny everywhere.

_But it really looked like him this time,_ she thought to herself, standing in the middle of the bazaar-like downtown shopping area. She twisted her hands into a knot and walked on, glancing back to see if maybe, just maybe, she would see him again.

"Danny," she muttered, turning back forwards and walking with her head down, her heart let down once again.

* * *

_I got so wrapped up in my TW contest on dA and my "Continuus" fics and college and school that I forgot about this fic. But it's just so much fun to write, I can't stop it now!  
_


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